


constantly chasing you

by cressisaqueen



Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Canon Compliant, Deleted Scenes, F/M, Friends to Lovers, dimya, i found a bootleg and fell in love with this show all over again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 15:50:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19276471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cressisaqueen/pseuds/cressisaqueen
Summary: "I want to thank you," she starts, "you're the reason I'm going to have a family again." A wave of guilt washes over Dmitry. His brain screams liar, liar, liar. All because he wanted some cash."Well, Vlad helped a little too." Anya giggles. Dmitry wishes he could bottle the sound."Only a little though."Anya turns her head to look at Dmitry, her eyes bright and blue. Dmitry's suddenly aware of how little space there is between them, aware of how easy it would be to kiss her.She'll break your heart.Dmitry turns his head to look down at the water, avoiding Anya's gaze. He can't kiss her, he can't afford to. Falling in love with her wasn't part of the plan.





	constantly chasing you

**Author's Note:**

> i love this musical with my whole heart and i miss my parents, christy altomare and derek klena

_you are a sun_

_bright,_ _beautiful, the world needs you_

_i'm a moon_

_constantly chasing you_

 

Dmitry has never met someone so optimistic, so hopeful that things will go as planned. Not that they really have a plan. Dmitry's starting to think he's in over his head at this point. But the look in Anya's eyes when she remembers, truly remembers, a detail about what could've been her life is something otherworldly. He's in too deep now; they can't stop now, even if they wanted to. Not that it seems like Anya wants to. 

"She would sing to us sometimes," Anya says one night, a long day of street sweeping and princess lessons finally done with. Vlad fell asleep long ago, while Anya and Dmitry aren't sure they'll get sleep anytime soon. 

She has that look in her eye.

"Who?" Dmitry asks, a part of him genuinely curious, the other part just wanting her to believe what she's saying. 

"My mother. When my sisters and I couldn't sleep she would sing us to sleep. Her voice was beautiful, like an opera singer." Anya's voice is filled with such affection that Dmitry almost believes her too. Some days it's hard to forget that she's just another orphan. 

Dmitry remembers the music box tucked into his bag. Maybe Anya could get it to work, maybe she could sing. He bets she has a beautiful voice too. 

"Do you ever miss your parents?" Anya asks. The question catches Dmitry off guard. Does he? He misses his father more than anything on this earth, but his mother... He never truly knew her. He never knew if she could sing. Can he miss someone he never actually knew?  _Yes,_ he thinks. He misses  _her_ more often than not. 

"I miss my father every day." Anya scoots closer to his claimed spot on the floor, tattered blanket clutched in her hand. She's facing him and Dmitry thinks this is the closest they've been since Vlad made them waltz around the room. Her eyes are full of a wonderment Dmitry's never seen before.

Sometimes he has no idea what she's thinking. There are some days where she wears her heart right on her sleeve, telling him and Vlad all about her time trekking across the country. Other days she's completely shut down, murmurs about seeing ghosts. 

Now though, her eyes are on him, betraying absolutely nothing. A combination of the two. Willing to share, but not if Dmitry won't share in return. He's scared that if she keeps looking at him like that, he'll do something stupid. 

"I think he'd like to have met you," Dmitry says. He's grateful that at least this bit of information is the truth. Anya's smile is small, but genuine. She bows her head and Dmitry can see a small blush on her cheeks. 

If she's this radiant in a dump like St. Petersburg, Dmitry can't even imagine how bright she'll be in Paris. 

* * *

They're _out._ They actually did it. Dmitry's more than a little surprised, always some doubt hovering over him like a cloud. But now the cloud is gone and the sun is shining as the train pulls out of the station.  

Anya's bouncing her knee like it's a spring, which is only slightly getting on Dmitry's nerves. Russia was her only home, and now she's traveling to a different country to find a new one. Dmitry can understand. 

"Hey," he mutters, trying not to wake an already sleeping Vlad. He's pretty sure that sleeping is the only thing the older man does. "Are you okay?" he asks Anya. She seems to be pulled out of a daydream, her knee coming to a stop. 

She nods, then shakes her head. 

"I don't know. I'm happy to be leaving, of course I am, but it's like losing something precious in order to get something new." Anya looks up at him, uncertainty in her eyes. Unsure that she made the right decision. Dmitry's not even sure he made the right decision.

"I understand that," Dmitry starts, "But hey, you'll be seeing your grandmother again soon." Anya smiles slightly, not entirely believing him. 

_I'm not going to lie to find out who I am._

It's not a lie. Dmitry has played that in his head every time Anya doubts. If the most optimistic person in St. Petersburg doesn't even believe, then the Dowager Empress definitely won't. 

_Then it'll just be an unfortunate coincident. Either way it gets_ you _to Paris and_ us _out of Russia._

Dmitry doesn't understand why now he all of a sudden feels bad about lying to Anya. It's all been a lie since the very beginning. However, ever since he danced with her, showed her the city from his point of view, listened to her sing, it felt like things have shifted. Like she'll leave a lasting impression on him. 

Dmitry opens his mouth to speak, but someone knocks - very loudly - on their compartment door. Vlad jerks awake, almost falling out of his seat. 

The door opens to reveal two guards and Dmitry's entire body tenses. He feels Anya grabbing his hand and he squeezes hers. 

"What, uh, seems to be the problem?" Vlad asks. Dmitry can almost see sweat on the man's forehead. 

"We're looking for someone who's trying to leave the country illegally," one of the guards explain. Anya's trembling so hard that Dmitry's afraid she'll give them away. 

"Didn't have the right papers, eh?" Vlad laughs awkwardly.  _We're so dead._

"Had the right papers, just not the right name." Anya's going to crush Dmitry's hand. He lets go, puts his arm around her waist. If her breath hitched it's only because the guards are about to accuse them of leaving the country illegally. 

But the guards hear something from the other side of the train and leave. They didn't arrest them, threaten to shoot them on sight. The air in the compartment is suddenly breathable again. 

"I'll check to make sure everything's all right," Vlad says and leaves in the same direction as the guards. 

Anya's breathing slows down and the violent trembling becomes a slight shiver. Dmitry still has his arm around her waist. 

"It's okay, we're going to be okay," Dmitry tells her. Maybe he isn't completely done lying to her. "They're just going to check on something, we're not-" He's cut off by the sound of gunshots echoing from the front of the train. A sob escapes Anya. 

Vlad enters the compartment, a solemn look on his face. 

"They found who they were looking for. They sh-" 

"We know what happened," Dmitry interrupts. Anya has her head buried in the crook of his neck, taking shuddering breaths.

"They're also looking for two men and a young woman," Vlad says. Dmitry tries to reason with himself; that could be anyone on this train. But the guards are looking for them. They'll shoot them just like they shot that innocent person trying to have a better life. Well, Dmitry doesn't know if whoever was shot was innocent. He's certainly not. 

"We have to leave," Anya says, her voice quiet and eyes wet with tears. She's the bravest person Dmitry's ever known. 

"How? Guards are blocking all the exits," Vlad says. Anya stands up, Dmitry still holding on. She takes his hand again and uses her free one to point at the window. 

"We'll have to jump." She's trying to kill them, Dmitry's sure of it. If the guards don't get to them, they'll plummet to their deaths. The looks on Vlad and Dmitry's faces must be stupid because Anya just huffs and says, "We don't have any other choice. This is the once chance we have of leaving and I'm not going to blow it because you two are too scared to jump from a train." 

Just a few minutes ago she was sobbing and having a full-blown panic attack. Now she's suggesting jumping from a train and calling Dmitry and Vlad scaredy cats. She truly is something else entirely. 

Dmitry looks at Vlad and the two men shrug their shoulders. Why not? What else do they have to lose? 

Anya smiles, her hand leaving Dmitry's. He almost misses it. 

The pounding of feet can be heard from down the hall. Dmitry's heart jumps into his throat as he grabs his suitcase. Anya pries the window open and begins to climb out. 

"Ready?" she asks, one foot on the seat, the other hanging out the window. Dmitry nods, helps her out the window.

Vlad hugs the wall, his suitcase clutched in his hands.

Dmitry's halfway out when he says, "Vlad, c'mon. We don't have much time." The guards knock at the compartment door again, spooking Vlad away from the wall.

All three are out the window when the door is yanked open, four guards pointing their guns.

"Jump!" Anya yells, letting go. Dmitry follows suit, praying they land in a hill of soft snow.

The wind whips at his hair and clothes. It feels as if he'll never stop falling. He hears Vlad shrieking and Anya... laughing? His feet hit the ground and Dmitry falls forward into a pile of snow. Vlad lands next to him, still shrieking. 

"We actually did it," Anya says, surprised. It's not the cold that will kill Dmitry, it's this girl. Except she's looking at him so intently, asking if he's okay. He almost kisses her right there and then. If they didn't just escape certain death, and if she wasn't possibly a princess, he really just might.

* * *

Anya flourishes in Paris. 

Her smiles are more often and genuine, and her eyes are brighter than anything Dmitry had seen in Russia. He thinks it's definitely worth jumping off a fucking train. 

Vlad takes them all over town, to cafes and shops that leave Anya breathless. Dmitry thinks about asking her to take a stroll with him, maybe get dinner. Possibly ask her to dance with him again, and not because Vlad is forcing them to.

_She'll break your heart._

That one sentence is what stops Dmitry from pursing anything at all. He knows it; knows that even if Anya isn't the princess, they'll still part ways. He wasn't hoping on her staying with them, at least not at first.

If Anya really is Anastasia then... He really did find her again. Then he'd have to let her go all over again. _Princesses don't marry street rats._ Either way, Anya and Anastasia will both break his heart.

The three of them get dinner their first night in the city, Vlad wanting an excuse to show them that you're not supposed to scarf down your food all at once.

"It's so beautiful here," Anya says after their waiter takes their orders. Her hair is up in curls, a beautiful pin keeping them in place. Her dress is a shade of purple that brings out the blue in her eyes. Dmitry felt like his heart had stopped when he first saw her. 

_She'll break your heart._

He needs to stop being reminded of that.

After dinner, Anya takes them to her grandfather's bridge. The moon shines in the water and Anya practically glows. She's leaning on the railing, staring into the water. Dmitry joins her, suddenly nervous. Why should he be nervous? He's never been nervous around her before, so why now?

_Probably because she's really starting to look like a princess._ _Probably because she's always looked like a princess._

"I can't believe we're actually here," she says, not taking her eyes off the water. Dmitry only looks at her, his heart hammering against his ribcage, threatening to break free.

"And to think we almost died jumping out of a train," Dmitry teases. Anya rolls her eyes, bumps her shoulder against his.

"I want to thank you," she starts, "you're the reason I'm going to have a family again." A wave of guilt washes over Dmitry. His brain screams liar, liar, liar. All because he wanted some cash.

"Well, Vlad helped a little too." Anya giggles. Dmitry wishes he could bottle the sound.

"Only a little though."

Anya turns her head to look at Dmitry, her eyes bright and blue. Dmitry's suddenly aware of how little space there is between them, aware of how easy it would be to kiss her.

_She'll break your heart._

Dmitry turns his head to look down at the water, avoiding Anya's gaze. He can't kiss her, he can't afford to. Falling in love with her wasn't part of the plan.

* * *

"Your Highness," Dmitry whispers, sinking into a bow.

He was so close, _so close,_ but his brain had to be logical. He couldn't let his heart be in control for once. 

Anya really is Anastasia. It's the best and worst outcome. Best because now he won't have to lie anymore, it's all true. Worst because well... he'll just have to move on.

"Dmitry, please stand up," Anya says, her voice breaking. He stays still, knowing if he looks at her he actually will kiss her, social ranking be damned. So, Anya sinks to the floor with him. 

He can't lose her again; he spent his whole life trying to let her go, all to find her again. Except he basically professed his undying love to her, and now she'll live the rest of her life in a fancy manor, leaving him to wander the streets. 

"Dmitry, I'm still Anya," she whispers, taking his hand. Except no, she's not. She's not Anya, but she's not Anastasia either. She's someone new and radiant. 

"You should get some sleep. We have the ballet tomorrow after all." Dmitry risks looking up at her. The look on her face makes Dmitry feel so, so guilty. She stands up abruptly, crossing to the other side of the room. 

"Right, of course." Her tone is disinterested, the exact opposite of everything she does. Dmitry rises from his bow, takes one last look at her, and leaves the room. 

He has to let her go, has to lose her all over again. He has to take himself out of her life. But how can he when she's everything he's been looking for his entire life? And it's not just him; she was going to kiss him. It was Dmitry who stopped it, not Anya.

He's almost to his room when he hears his name.

Anya is walking down the hall, straight to him. Her eyes are the most intense he's ever seen, almost like when she was attacking those men in the alleyway back in St. Petersburg. Dmitry thinks she might punch him. But she doesn't; she rises up on her tip toes and kisses him.

It's like a hundred fireworks are exploding in Dmitry's head. His heart is beating a thousand miles a minute. Anya's kisses are as passionate as everything else she does in life. Dmitry doesn't know why he waited this long.

They break apart after what feels like an entire lifetime. Dmitry's almost gasping for breath, but he doesn't ever want this kiss to end.

"I would never have forgiven myself if I didn't do that," Anya says. Her smile is so wide and Dmitry thinks his own smile matches.

Then his brain takes over, kicking his heart out of the driver's seat.

"But I'm just... you're a..." Anya's smile falters, understanding their situation. She knows just as much as he does that princesses don't marry commoners. 

"We can worry about that if the Dowager Empress accepts me as her granddaughter." 

"She will." Dmitry's sure of it. Anya manages to capture the hearts of everyone she meets; she'll impress the old woman. 

* * *

"And for your reward," the Dowager Empress says, turning away from Dmitry to get the reward money. 

"I don't want it," Dmitry stops her. He already hurt Anya too much; he can't take money from her family. 

"Why the change of mind?" the Empress asks.  _Because,_ Dmitry thinks,  _I'm hopelessly in love with your_ _granddaughter. It's not about the money anymore._

"It was more a change of heart," Dmitry says. He bows and leaves it at that. He's bowing more now than he has in his entire life. 

Dmitry manages to not run into Anya as he leaves the manor. He feels disappointed and relieved all at once. He's sure that if he sees her, he'll chicken out of leaving. Even if she doesn't want him to stay, one look from her would glue him to the spot. 

He packs up the few things he brought with him, including the suits Vlad had bought him. He refuses to go back to Russia; he's not even sure if he can at this point. Maybe England will take him, or he could go to the States. Somewhere warm. Dmitry's tired of the cold. 

He stops at the bridge, gazing at the water one last time. It's a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky. Almost reminds him of the parade. 

"Dmitry," a voice behind him says. And there she is: the woman of his dreams. 

He's tired of whatever it is they're doing. Was she just destined to break his heart over and over again?

"If you ever see me from a carriage, don't wave, don't smile. I don't want to be in love with someone I can't have for the rest of my life." It's the first time he's said those words out loud.  _In love with._ He truly is in love with her; has been for so long he doesn't remember what it feels like to not be in love with her. 

The look on Anya's - no Anastasia's - face is enough to say that she didn't think he was capable of falling so fast. 

Dmitry picks up his suitcase, prepared to walk away from her forever. 

"I always dreamed that I would be kissed in Paris by a handsome prince," she says. She's been in kissed in Paris, but not by a prince. 

"I'm not your prince, Anya," Dmitry says, stops and turns to face her. She has the same look in her eyes as she did the night she kissed him the first time. 

"The Grand Duchess Anastasia Romanov would beg to disagree," she grabs his suitcase, slams it on the ground, and uses it as a step-stool, "Dima." 

This kiss is different from the first one. The first one was desperate after weeks of waiting. This one is sweet and amorous, like they've been kissing each other their entire lives. They break apart and Dmitry knows that this is it for him. Anya's it for him. 

"Are you still going to leave?" Anya asks, as if she doesn't know he'll follow her to the ends of the earth. Dmitry shakes his head, not trusting his voice. Her smile could put the sun to shame. 

"I'll only leave once you get tired of me."

"Well, I'm glad that'll never happen." 

Dmitry kisses her again. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> low-key stole the 'looks like she's going to punch me, actually kisses me' thing from percy jackson because it's too iconic
> 
> i'm on tumblr @cressisaqueen


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